


Rockfall

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14526504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: How many times must Mollymauk be crushed before his crush will kiss him? (Ba dum tiss)





	Rockfall

The first time Molly’s fingers tangle with Caleb’s, the wizard flinches and trips over his own stuttering feet, caught only  _ by _ the link between himself and Mollymauk. When he’s upright again, Molly dances past with scimitars drawn and apologises quietly, not drawing attention.   
Caleb appreciates that.   
Molly doesn’t do it again after that.   
He catches Caleb’s sleeve, instead, the cuff, scrunches it in his fingers and winds it around himself, sometimes as guidance for Caleb as he walks, thinking or unseeing, and sometimes it’s purely for grounding, as Molly struggles with reality and Fjord struggles with unseen darkness and Caleb is the only one Molly can go to. Once, one time, only, Caleb looks at him when he winds his fingers into the cuff of his coat and cocks his head a little. Whatever he sees in Molly’s distant eyes draws him in, Caleb lifts Molly’s arm around his shoulders and winds an arm around his waist, Molly leans on him as though injured though he appears unscathed.

 

When the rockfall happens, nobody panics more than Caleb.   
He doesn’t sit back, like Fjord and Nott, he doesn’t care that he’s not strong in the ways that Jester and Yasha are, he screams Molly’s name as he’s buried and is there immediately, tearing skin from his fingers as he digs through the rocks.   
The heavy ones, Jester takes, calm despite her clear concern, Yasha digs next to him with a frenzy only slightly less erratic than Caleb’s, she’s used to the shock and handles it better than Caleb does.   
Caleb’s hands are bleeding by the time they uncover the first bit of Molly. His protective bandages are torn, a jagged stone cutting through them like a blade and biting into his hand and he heaves it away.   
“I found him!” He calls to Yasha, and she’s at his side, Jester comes up on the other, and the others join them now, too. It feels like  _ hours _ , each rock removed reveals a little bit more  _ Mollymauk _ , a little embroidery, a finger, a lock of hair, a crushed and broken chain for a crushed and broken body. He’s pinned mostly in a gap between four or five large boulders, it looks as though most of his upper body has been protected, but he’s still messed up. There’s blood leaking from his nose, and Jester pushes past Caleb and Yasha to kneel and set her hands to one broken, distorted arm.   
Yasha comes up beside her and puts her own hands to one of Molly’s, they both breath in perfect unison and channel, twin trickles of golden light through their blood, lighting up their veins and to their hands and into Molly. His broken bones begin to right, and Caleb moves around to Molly’s head, uncorks a potion, Jester looks at him sharply.   
“I have spells.” She warns, “We should save money.  _ You _ should save money.”   
She looks pointedly at his satchel, she knows there’s a new spell scroll in there, he’s out of parchment and ink back at the Inn.   
Caleb meets her eyes with a hard expression.   
“Mollymauk is worth more than my magic.”   
He tips the potion into Molly’s mouth, careful to keep the flow paced so that Molly doesn’t choke, it trickles down his throat and between the three of them, Molly’s body heals and breathing slows, calms, deepens. Caleb strokes his fingers through Molly’s hair and hunches over him, Jester tries to coax him away but he doesn’t respond to her, moves only when she scoops Molly from the rocks and Caleb makes a worried, panicked noise in the back of his throat.   
Yasha puts her fingertips on his shoulder, very lightly, and then presses for a split second and Caleb lets his hands fall from Molly’s hair. He and Yasha scramble down the remainder of the rocks together, to Molly’s side again as Jester lies him on a bedroll that Fjord has splayed out.   
“Can’t move him tonight.” Fjord comments, he sits at Molly’s side leaning against a wall, “Might fuck him up again. Best to camp. I’ll take first watch.”   
“I’ll take second.” Nott chirrups, already setting out her bedroll beside Fjord, toward Molly’s head.   
“Third.” Jester raises a hand. “Caleb, Yasha, you should both get some sleep, you were hurt  _ pretty bad _ .”   
She’s got a hand to Molly’s shoulder, still casting, still curing, she yawns widely but Caleb knows that she’ll be fine by her watch.    
Yasha begins to lay out her bedroll beside Mollymauk, under Nott, beside Fjord, and he doesn’t argue, just pats her shoulder hard as she settles down beside him. Beau scooches over beside her and squishes into her bedroll, too, starts with her back to Yasha’s as the latter stares at Molly’s unconscious form, and rearranges, a few minutes later, Beau becomes the little spoon under Yasha’s arm and she’d generally have some arguments but she’s just glad that she can watch out for him, too.   
“Caleb?” he hears Beau question him, she’s tucked under Yasha’s chin and her fingers are curled at the edge of Molly’s bedroll, but her eyes are on Caleb. He hums as he plops to the floor at Molly’s head and threads his fingers through Molly’s hair, gentle.    
Fjord shifts from the wall to Caleb’s side when Jester stands, she sets up her bedroll to Yasha’s back and curls up like a cat, Frumpkin moves at a thought from Caleb and sleeps at her side, her fingertips in his fur.   
Caleb and Fjord sit side-by-side in silence whilst they wait for the others to drop off. At some point, Caleb shifts a little, rests his tired head on Fjord’s shoulder and lets all of the aches of the day come roaring in, one big, unpleasant wave of pain and misery.   
“Y’ should sleep, Caleb. I’ll wake y’ if anything happens.”   
Caleb knows he doesn’t mean attacks.    
He means Molly, if Molly stops breathing, or wakes up, or bleeds unexpectedly from one of his many eyes.    
Still, Caleb shakes his head against Fjord’s shoulderplate. Fjord sighs at him, Caleb feels a hand curl around his hip, warm and broad and encompassing, Fjord feels safe.    
“I get that, I s’pose.” Fjord mumbles, rests his cheek on Caleb’s head, “I’m worried, too. Just… ain’t so good at processin’ it.”   
“Fjord.” Caleb says, his voice husky and fraying at the seams, “I love him.”   
There’s a beat of silence, and Caleb feels the tense of muscle as Fjord smiles.   
“I know, darlin’, I know.” He says softly, “So do I.”

Caleb is on the cusp of sleep when Fjord squeezes his hip and pulls away to wake Nott. Caleb sways as he lays his and Fjord’s bedrolls out, overlapping, beside Molly’s. When Nott takes her place at Molly’s head, Caleb finally climbs into his bedroll, and falls asleep at the edge, his fingers laced with Molly’s and Fjord’s arm over his waist.

 

Molly wakes up partway through Jester’s watch with a muffled scream, he sits up and Caleb follows him a second later, his fingers find Molly’s in moments and lace, squeeze, Molly draws a breath and looks around wildly when he realises his lungs are filling with air and not dust, dirt, Caleb scrambles to crawl up to him.   
“It’s okay.” Caleb assures, fingertips at Molly’s cheek, “You are alive. You are okay.”   
“Caleb?” Molly’s voice is choked with tears that Caleb can only just see in the dim light from the magical glowing rock that Jester holds, she sits at the top of Molly’s bedroll, watching intently, relief on her face.   
“ _ Ja _ .” Caleb affirms, runs the fingertips on Molly’s cheek back, brushes hair out of his eyes and mouth, “It is me, Mollymauk, you’re good.”   
Molly gives a noise that sounds like a squeak and throws himself at Caleb, the hand not laced with Caleb’s finds a handful of shirt under ginger hair, Caleb slips his free hand from Molly’s face to wrap around his back.   
“Come on.” Caleb says, and pulls gently, “Lie down, it’s okay.”   
Fjord has come up beside them, tired, he tugs at Molly’s bedroll until it closes the couple of inches of distance between Caleb’s and his, even with both Molly and Caleb sitting on it.   
“S’alright, Molly.” Fjord assures, sleepily, “C’mon, now.”   
Molly crawls over Caleb’s legs toward Fjord, keeps one hand in Caleb’s and reaches up, stretches to kiss Fjord. Fjord makes a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, but slips a hand to the back of Molly’s head anyway, lets him pull away gently and turn back to Caleb, staring, shocked in some ways and not in others. Molly wants to ask, but the idea of words sticks on the way from his brain to his throat, all he sees and speaks is blank.   
He finds Caleb’s fingertips at his jaw, gentle, and Caleb is leaning in, he pauses a blink from Molly’s lips and lets Molly close the last gap, quick and warm and watched intently by Jester. She throws a pebble at Caleb’s back.   
“He needs  _ sleep _ .” she hisses as he startles away from Molly, “You can make out in the morning!”   
Caleb and Fjord both hum in agreement, between them, they get Molly to lie down, sandwiching him in a much more  _ pleasant _ way than the rocks.    
“Mollymauk,” Caleb breathes, close to his ear, “I almost- very nearly did not get the chance to tell you.”   
“I know.” Molly murmurs, and Caleb shakes his head, tilts so that he can kiss the shell of Molly’s ear,   
“I love you.” He says, quiet but firm, and Molly’s fingers in his  _ squeeze _ .   
“Love you too darling.”   
“Go to sleep.” Fjord’s faux anger reaches them, “Y’ can save your confessions for th’ mornin.”   
Molly gives a breath of a laugh.   
“I love  _ you _ too, Fjord.”


End file.
